Cooper shouts into the microphone. The crowd roars. He places a hand to his ear as though he couldn’t hear them, and shakes his head. “Hmm, I didn’t quite catch that.” They scream again, and still he shakes his head. Cooper glances at Levi, “Quinn, you catch that?” “Nope.” Levi says, leaning into the microphone in front of him. “I didn’t hear Jack shit.” The crowd roars again. This time, stamping their feet on the stadium floor. “Now that I heard.” Cooper chuckles and places the microphone back in the stand as Byron—one of the roadies—runs on stage and hands him a guitar and a pick. Coop places the strap over his head, and strums. “Alright, so this next song is a little bit of an ode to Zed,” The crowd cheers, and some over-excited fangirl screams, “I wanna have your babies, Zed.” He laughs and leans into the mic positioned above his kit. “Err, thank you strange American girl who I’ve never met before, but I’m sterile, got measles as a kid, so … no babies here.”
